


Tactile

by pressedinthepages



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Pre-Marital Hand-Holding, Prickly Bastard, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:20:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25174516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pressedinthepages/pseuds/pressedinthepages
Summary: Lambert is touch-starved, but you are starting to change his aversion to touch.
Relationships: Lambert (The Witcher)/Reader
Comments: 14
Kudos: 62





	Tactile

**Author's Note:**

> Reader Request: “ok for lambert - just walking with him and suddenly holding his hand and our touch starved man is like "why you doing that what is that" but he lowkey really likes it ″

“Lambert, look, they have those little cakes you like!” you thread your fingers through his and tug, pulling the Witcher towards the bakery. You don’t get far though, Lambert planting his feet in the middle of the road.

“Sorry, what the fuck are you doing?” He asks incredulously, still holding your hand tight in his own. Your brows furrow as you close the distance between you, shaking your head slightly as your skirt billows along the ground. 

“I’m taking you to get some cake? What does it look like I’m doing?” your voice is like flower petals flowing on the wind to Lambert’s ears, it doesn’t matter what you say, he’d pay every last coin he’d ever seen just to hear your voice. 

“It  _ looks  _ like you’re holding my hand.” He glances down at your hands, still woven together, neither of you moving to separate them.

“And? What, would you rather me grab you by the cock and pull you into the shop?” you laugh, placing your free hand on his arm as you lean in closer.

“I-hmm,” Lambert clears his throat, still reeling as his heart beat three times faster than normal and his face flushed just the tiniest bit. He’d never admit that, though, he’s far too proud. 

But with you, all of that melts away. He’s still a brash asshole whose mouth doesn’t have a filter, but you’ve worn down the sharp edges, revealing the soft man beneath who just wants to be loved, and learn how to show love in return. 

“You’re not worried they’ll see?” Lambert gestures to the people in the market, some of them staring at the woman holding the Witcher in her arms. 

You cup his face in your hand, squeezing lightly with your other. “Do I look like I give a single shit what these people think?” you whisper, going up on your tiptoes to place a gentle kiss to his cheek. You hear him suck in a breath as you move back, starting to pull away towards the bakery. 

But Lambert’s hold on your hand tightens, his calloused fingers refusing to let you go. He has denied himself this part of life for so long, but with you, he finally relents. You smile at him, pulling him along as he grumbles, a small smile of his own turning up at the corners.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading :) you can find me on tumblr @pressedinthepages


End file.
